Firsts
by theleague-ofshadows
Summary: A collection of "First Times" between Carol Peletier and Daryl Dixon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Starting a compilation of short stories explaining my versions of first experiences between Carol and Daryl leading to their beautiful friendship and slow growing bond. Still trying to finish my next chapter on The Cold and Heartless for those of you wondering why the hell I'm not finishing that story before updating my Walking Dead fics, so don't give up on faith. It will be done in time. I'm just feeling inspired to do Caryl fics lately, and I'm acting on that inspiration. **

**Please take the time to read and review!**

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**The First Time She Saw Him**

The first time she saw him was during the most dire of circumstances. Shane and Lori and her kid were in the car ahead of theirs; she couldn't remember if they had anyone else with them. Their tail lights were trailing quickly from side to side. Ed was in the front seat of Carol's old car following them, slamming into any and every disfigured looking person that lurked towards their car. Once they realized that going into Atlanta was a disastrous plan, Shane told Ed that they needed to get off of the roads and up higher into the hills. Ed was foul mouthing Shane, griping about how he wasn't going to do shit that he said. It wasn't until people—snarling, dirty, grotesque people— came through the trees for the cars that it even clicked inside of Ed's mind that there was a serious danger and he needed to save himself.

Jacqui and the other man, she thought he said his name was Theodore, were with a woman (Chloe?) and her little boy, while the young Asian boy drove the young blonde sisters and the Hispanic couple and their children behind them. She didn't even know if Dale had made it out safely.

Carol gripped Sophia hard against her body and covered her ears as the people's snarls couldn't even be drowned out by the sound of the car speeding down the road. Shane clipped several of them, even ran over a few, but they didn't stop thrashing and growling, even as their legs and arms and abdomens were crushed down to bits. Carol's eyes were wide with shock as she watched Ed swerve around a woman whose left cheek and nose were completely removed from her face, her jaw hanging by thin muscles, as she reached her arms out for them.

Only she wasn't reaching for them.

There was suddenly the loud sound of something that sounded like a chainsaw ripping close to their car, when she suddenly saw it. A motorcycle. It came thundering past their car, two people riding on it, one with a baseball bat in his hands as he swung at the woman's jaw and removed it completely. Carol gasped and heard Ed mumble, "What the fuck?"

The motorcycle jetted past their car and to the side of Shane and Lori's before it passed it. Carol knew that Shane really didn't have a place to go in mind so she assumed he would thoughtlessly follow the two men on the bike, thundering up the hills and further past the roads.

They had found a campsite, most Georgia citizens used it for hunting or Boy Scout camp outs, far up the hills. The people, the dead ones, had become more and more scarce the further they went on. It was a miracle they could slip past the others. She wondered if anyone else on that bridge had even made it out alive.

Sophia was crying in Carol's arms still, Ed was muttering heatedly. Carol looked wide eyed out of the window as she realized that they were finally coming to a stop. Ed parked the car, not even looking around for a threat as he stormed out of the car towards Shane, but Shane wasn't looking at Ed or even noticing his existence. Shane was too busy being chewed out by one of the biker boys.

"Who the hell do ya think you are following us up here?" The younger one—the darker haired one—began. There was an intense southern drawl as he talked and Carol watched his angry stance as he paced closer to Shane.

Shane held up his hands in defense as the man stormed towards him, looking like he was about to shove him over or bash his skull in. "Hold up now, we needed to get off the roads. You did too. Don't you think we—"

"We didn't invite y'all to get cozy with us here. Go find someplace else to lay your head." His voice edged and seemed to bounce off of the trees. The noise would bring them. It was dark, it was cold. The only light was from the headlights and even that wasn't enough to shine across the site. Who knew if more of those things were hiding in the woods. Carol wanted more than anything to call out for the two of them to stop being so loud. She wanted them to be quiet. But she didn't say anything. She was frozen watching Lori pull Shane back as Shane was about to say something in return.

"There are plenty other sites around here. Maybe we can just—" She began but she was cut off by another person, the other that was on the motorcycle. The one with the bat.

"Now, now. There ain't no harm in servicin' some good folks, now is there Daryl. These people seem mighty…_prepared_…to me. Seems like they could be of use." The one, Daryl, looked back, appalled. But once he caught the other's gaze, he seemed to let his shoulder's slump, before he looked back at Shane and exhaled, annoyed.

The one with the bat in his hands dropped it as he stepped off the bike and clapped with a hearty laugh. A malicious laugh. "Well, y'all best rest up. Daryl…" He called out to him and turned his head sharply to notion him closer. Carol watched him scoff as he took one last look at Shane before he passed by her and Sophia to get to the other one who was leaning against the bike to her left. Carol lowered her eyes and gripped Sophia closer and she turned quickly to walk over to Jacqui. Jacqui looked terrified, but the young man, Theodore, was holding her close, his arm around her shoulder.

Ed shoved past all those who turned to Shane for answers to selfishly collect his own, giving Carol enough time to cautiously but curiously take a glance at the two to her left. They were far off now, walking into the wilderness with only a flashlight, the older one suddenly slinging his right arm over the other's shoulder. Carol inhaled carefully. They were going off into the woods. They could die.

They could become like that woman. All marred and distorted.

But she knew she couldn't spend all of her time worrying about strangers. She shouldn't. So she turned back and looked onto the faces around her.


	2. Chapter 2

**The First Time He Really Noticed Her**

She wasn't a talkative one. She didn't particularly have a fair share of stories to tell, or perhaps she wasn't the type to tell them. Maybe that's why he didn't really pay attention.

Or maybe he just wasn't being honest with himself. He just didn't care.

Merle kept calling the people rats, squeaking unnecessarily and too scared of everything to stay put.

Even so, he thought he remembered Merle describing her as a mouse. Her alone. But at the time, he wasn't listening. He wanted nothing to do with them. Hell, even now, he wanted them all gone. Doing shit like that, cuffing his brother to a roof. Doing something people wouldn't even do to an animal. Merle wasn't a bunch of daisies, but he sure as hell wasn't a dog.

But Merle had…spirit. He couldn't stick around for even a few days. Not even one fucking night. Finding it like that—his severed hand and the blood…the sight of Merle's blood stained his eyes like a fog; just like the fog that had been there the next morning. The morning after the Walkers attacked the camp.

All the fog had evaporated as the scorching sun began shining down on them. The Mexican woman was huddled close to her crying children as her husband helped the black guy pick up the bullet wounded Walkers lying _everywhere_. The blonde woman, Andrea, was sitting, cradling the bit girl as if she wasn't just going to get back up and take a chunk out of her jugular. Daryl scoffed as he continued to look around him. These people were pathetic. It was simple. No guilt. How many fucking times did he need to explain that?

He roughly pulled at one of the filthy dead bastard's legs to drag him over to the pile where they began igniting the bodies. The Asian boy kept holding his sleeve up to his nose as if _that_ was going to mask the stench. The cop, not Shane, but the other one, Rick, was standing by his wife and discussing what they needed to do. Discussing it like it wasn't blatantly _obvious_. They needed to leave. And they needed to put a bullet between that girl's eyes before she made an even worse ending to this failing day.

So he marched up to Rick, pickaxe upon his shoulder as he began spewing out reasons. He remembered calling her a "time bomb". Rick cocked his head and asked him what he suggested they do, and Daryl looked him straight in the eye and told him to take the shot. Do what they all knew needed to be done. But then she, his wife, told him to let her be. As if she had any _authority_.

He shook his head and scoffed, marching off to return to his work.

"Wake up Jimbo, we've got some work to do." He growled to the man in the cap as he stalked over to Morales to help him drag a damn heavy shit brain to the pile behind them. It was only a matter of time before the Asian told him he wasn't doing something right.

"H-hey, what are you guys doing?" He began, but his voice sounded more desperate than snarky. "This is for Geeks. Our people go over there."

Daryl very nearly rolled his eyes. He made a comment back, something about how it didn't make a difference.

Then the young man got even angier. Yelling at him, telling him how it seemed more proper to let their bodies rot in the earth then letting them be turned into ash. Daryl looked at him for a long while before he exhaled in a long breath and began moving the body. Whatever. It wasn't like he had much do about anything lately anyway.

They were pulling the body to the other pile, the god damn pile of bitten humans that was so important when he made one last smart ass remark. "You reap what you sow."

"You know what? Shut up man!" Morales barked at him, but Daryl wasn't spending time singling out him to chew back at. He dropped the body roughly and stormed off. "Y'all left my brother for dead. You had this coming!"

He shook his head, his entire body pulsating with anger. He turned his head and looked at Rick, at his wife, and that short haired woman. He looked away from all of them, rounding, trying to blow off some steam.

Then they found out that that crazy one in the cap had been bitten. And to add to that, they still weren't decided on what to do. With the live one or the dead one.

Bunch of pussies.

When he tried to fix it for the sons of bitches, they pointed a gun to his head, talking about how they don't kill the living. Well hell. Ain't gonna be much more living when they keep around threats as such.

They didn't want his help? Fine. The last time he would actually try and do something useful for these ungrateful bastards. He went off looking for something else to lay his pickaxe in. He made his way round inbetween the Winnebago and the bright red Challenger. He had put the point between the eyes of two walkers, and when he was going to finish off the last one, she appeared.

He had seen her before, no doubt, but there was nothing that made her stand out amongst the others. She was gray. She was hollow. He didn't give her, much less anyone, a real look. But still, there she stood, looking down at the damn ugly son of a gun, all gutted and showing bones. The sun was beating down on her skin and she looked splotchy and red and sweaty. There were tears streaming down her cheeks as she spoke and told him that she would complete the task; that it was _her_ husband. She would do it.

Daryl was so shocked by her proposal that he didn't object. He slowly handed her the tool and stepped back a few feet, knowing that he should give her time to mourn her husband, but something told him that she was mourning for her well-being rather than his. She looked like she was about to collapse with emotion when she lifted the weapon and slammed the pointed end into her husband's skull. She let the point stay still lodged in his brain, making Daryl think she would let it stay that way, when she lifted the tool slowly over her shoulder and swayed for a bit before she slammed it again into his head. And again. And again. All the while sniveling and sobbing and grunting with force.

Daryl watched in peculiar shock as the woman continued to beat the man's skull until it was nothing but mesh. His fingers were tense as he did not know what he could possibly say or do or even think of. And he flinched, God, he flinched. It was painful to even watch her. To have to hear her making those painful sounds as she continued.

He looked at her, found her side profile as she swung again and frowned at her. He didn't know the reason, but he liked to imagine he understood after all those years with his old man. He wondered if her situation didn't differ much from his.

He looked at her as she stopped, holding the pickaxe to the ground by her feet as she lifted her shoulders, turning her head to one side, trying to hid herself, and tried to swallow. That look on her face, he wondered why it made his back tense. She hung her head and let her tears run for another minute, seemingly forgetting that he was her audience. He wondered why he was even still watching. Then she dropped the axe and held her palm over her heart as she slowly walked off, her head still hung.

He watched her leave, watched as she returned to one of the camping chairs and sat down slowly. Lori was talking to Rick and Shane was off watching Jim and no one was watching her. He didn't even know her name.

No. No one was paying attention to what she was doing.

Daryl turned back to look at the ruined face of the man below. He didn't know his story, but somehow he _knew_ he got what he deserved. All because Daryl had _watched_ her; had finally seen past the pointless small talk of the rest of them and seen a person. Had seen what she had just done. And he knew.

He just knew she had gotten her retribution.


End file.
